


"Come at once..."

by notjustmom



Series: What if... [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Again, M/M, the return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:09:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12403848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: What if... Sherlock sees John sitting at the table at the restaurant and turns around instead?





	"Come at once..."

Come at once, if convenient - SH

If inconvenient, come all the same - SH

Please? - SH

 

John rubbed his eyes and squinted at his mobile, then bolted upright, nearly out of bed.

"John?"

Mary looked over at him and he tried to smile. "I need to go out for a bit, just some unfinished business, back soon. I'll stop and get breakfast on the way back."

She nodded, then laid back down and watched him dress hurriedly and rush out the door.

 

John waited for the inevitable black sedan and was not disappointed. He slid in to the seat and closed the door sharply before turning towards Mycroft, and shoving his mobile in his face. "What the fuck is this, Mycroft?"

"My brother's note to let you know he has returned, one might say, 'from the dead'? I have to say it is somewhat kinder than his original plan which was to interrupt your proposal?"

John pinched his nose and laid back against the seat. "Take me to Baker Street, if you would, Mycroft?"

"Pleasure. And do take into account, Dr. Watson, he was not off on holiday the last two years. So do try to control your, shall we say, 'emotions' before you see him."

"Is there any reason I shouldn't punch you right now?" John muttered without moving a muscle.

"Not at all, if it would help, please, however, do understand, I am well-trained in several forms of martial arts."

"Do shut up, Mycroft." John whispered as he closed his eyes. 

 

Mrs. Hudson opened the door and smiled broadly at him before she saw the look in his eyes. "Upstairs. John - do - he isn't -"

John nodded and made his way upstairs quietly, then pushed open the door. It was as if not a day had gone by - Sherlock was sitting over his microscope, in his red dressing gown, but John noted a slight tremor in his friend's fingers, that hadn't been present before.

"John."

"Sorry, I should have knocked. You texted me? I'm assuming it's important, I was all the way across town."

Sherlock got to his feet and made his way slowly over to where John stood. "I can offer you tea, Mrs. Hudson picked up some milk this morning, in case. Congratulations on your engagement. I hope you will be very happy."

"When?"

"When did I get back?"

John nodded and helped Sherlock to his chair, then went into the kitchen to turn on the kettle and get out two mugs.

"Last week, I had to - I was required to stay in hospital a few days. Dehydration - nothing major, Mycroft is a worrywart, I was fine."

John sat on the edge of his chair and looked closely at his friend. "You look like hell."

"A bit better than dead, though, wouldn't you say? Sorry. Molly fainted, Greg tried to break two more ribs when he hugged me, and Mrs. Hudson nearly crushed my skull with her best frying pan, but luckily she missed, it was dark. I did go to the restaurant, saw you sitting at the table waiting for -"

"Mary, her name is Mary."

"Mary."

John nodded and looked at the floor.

"And I couldn't do it. You were the first person I wanted to - and when Mycroft told me - where you were, I assumed why you were there, but I thought -" Sherlock grimaced as he got to his feet and limped over to the window. "I saw you sitting there, nervously playing with the box and I lost my nerve. I turned around, nearly left my coat, but remembered it as I walked out the door. I am assuming you have questions."

John snorted and shook his head. "Why?"

"Why." Sherlock sighed. "Why did I do it? I had to do it because I loved, hmm, love you. I was given a choice. Not really a choice at all, more a rhetorical question, actually. He told me to jump or all of my friends would die, he knew my pressure point, John. From the pool, even before, I'm assuming, he knew. He knew before I did, how I felt. He called my bluff. I had a stronger hand and he beat me by blowing his brains out in front of me. I've never seen anyone do that before. It's quite something."

John stood up and quietly walked to stand behind Sherlock, ignoring the kettle as it screamed.

"No. It's best if you don't touch me, John. I don't want your pity, or sympathy or whatever it is you people do if you want to let your friend down easily. I do hope you still consider me your friend, at least. Perhaps you'll send me an invitation to the big do - I won't be able to attend, of course, as weddings aren't really my thing. I asked you here to let you know I was back, that is all. I'm sure you need to rush back to your betrothed, or you must have work, isn't your early shift-"

John gently wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist, and placed a whisper of a kiss against his back. "Shhh. Stop. Why did you never tell me, Sherlock?"

"Why? Mr. 'I'm not gay' is asking me why I didn't - tell - I'm not - I wasn't equipped to deal with your rejection then and I'm not now, I just wanted to let you know the reason I left. It doesn't matter in the least. But you had the right to know."

"Look at me, please?"

"Please, just go, John."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock turned too sharply on his heel, and toppled into John's arms. "Don't - I can't, John." John gingerly picked Sherlock up in his arms and bit his lip as he felt Sherlock rest his head against his chest. "Please -"

"I'm putting you to bed where you belong and I'm going to check your ribs and for any other injuries - you idiot. I love you, too."

"But - you can't, you aren't -"

"No, I'm not, Mr. 'married to his work.' But, I do - I have had relationships with men before, and I have been in love with you since the day I met you."

"What about Mary - she -"

"She will understand." John kissed Sherlock's feverish forehead and laid him down on the freshly made bed. "Welcome home, Sherlock. Rest, love."

"John?"

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise."


End file.
